Eyes down, eyes closed

Film. Photography that cannot be tampered with, or rather that looks tampered with if it is. It’s a risky form of photo taking: the process is expensive, and results uncertain. Film forces the photographer to be patient, to choose the opportune moment, and to have faith in their skill to produce a vividly coloured photo that will be as they want it to be.



But reality is rarely perfect, and although all was set up for perfection, that second fatal click captured a moment which would be deleted in a heartbeat on a digital camera. Why not keep the image? It is a moment captured all the same. I remember the camera clicking at that moment. I remember what I was feeling that day. And I remember what I was thinking at that minute—please don't capture me with my eyes closed! And here she is: the photograph, unaltered. Its beauty lies in its imperfection. Airbrushing may smooth out the "imperfections" of an image, but it twists reality. Will the turquoise of this top and the copper-red of this button bag, or the my feelings on this day be altered by closed eyes? Why do we take pictures? To give people what’s there or what they wish was there? Eyes down, eyes closed—the photograph does my feelings justice. —E